Lasterday I spent some time digging holes in the back yard to hide bad compost from rats in. I just want to let you all know that these were some quality ass holes, all square and three feet down. Seriously, I felt bad dumping a bunch of putrid meat that the upstairs neighbors decided was compost in there. Today, I’m really sore, mostly in my palms, upper arms and core, and I can’t believe how much of a wuss I am about it.

I guess, when your job and all your hobbies are sedentary, and you cook and eat to feel better about the world, your body gets weak. I know this to be true. And yet, the motivation to go for long walks, or ride my bike, or something doesn’t really show up to the party.

Not that it counts, really, but Samantha and I have been trying to learn to juggle in the evenings. She made the balls out of flour and balloons, and we’ll stand in the living room and try to reach a count of five or ten. As soon as I start losing control, my whole body gets more rigid, and I speed up the process of dropping all of the balls. Picking them up off the ground over and over might be exercise…